Renegade Reborn

by J. C. Fiske

  We need all three tools to fill the gaps if we want to grow as a world, but now? Karm, in his ignorance, he wishes to be rid of them? Outlawing such tools as Philosophy and Theology to our youths in school? All in favor of fitting people of various faiths, cultures, and beliefs into one common barrel, all the while shouting for equality and tolerance, as he does just the opposite? It’s ridiculous! Tolerance, PAH! As a great philosopher once said,

  ‘Tolerance is the last virtue of a depraved society. It creates a whole new world in which only the intolerant critic of intolerable evil, is evil.’

  Why can’t these people see? Why can’t people just think?” Purah sputtered out.

  “Not everyone is gifted with your intelligence and conviction, Purah.” Charley said.

  “I know! That’s why I attempted to simplify things, and now look, and listen to where it’s got us!” Purah said, sighing deeply.

  “It’s hard for you. You’re clever. You see how things fit together, see things differently than the average man. The world is hard to understand, and some, would rather live comfortably, than search for truth. Yes, Oak County was Vadid’s dream, but what is your dream?” Charley asked.

  “To make the world a better place than I left it.” Purah said.

  “And, what do you believe when it comes to our society?” Charley asked.

  “I believe in personal responsibility. I believe that we are the creators of our own destiny, but I also believe that circumstances can both change, and make a person who they are. Both sides are right, and I know that. That’s why, at my core, I’m, I’m . . .” Purah started, pausing.

  “A Renegade?” Charley asked with a smile.

  “Yes,” Purah said, with sudden clarity forming in his tone.

  “And you said it yourself. You feel a war coming. And how do you prevent a war? What did your Class Master, Brennan, teach you?” Charley asked.

  “That there is power in yielding. Like a cork atop the water, you will merely, when struck, bounce back with equal force, and without effort, tiring your opponent and when your opponent tires, so will his will to fight.” Purah said.

  “That’s right. I believe you’ve answered your own question. You don’t stand alone in your opinions. You have Falcon, you have Moordin, you have Shax, you have Lokin, and all your Renegade brothers and sisters walking through this city, right now, interfering only when needed, being a beacon to aspire to. Sure, you have some differences on the surface, like the two parties in Oak County, but your core values, they are the same, and most importantly, you both love and respect one another. You want my advice? I say we begin a new dream and we do what we Renegades have always done. Become an example for others to follow, but only if they wish to. I say we keep our gaze to the Heavens, not on Thera, and we build ourselves a shelter, for all and any willing to follow us, while at the same time, giving a place for the Flarian’s to thrive with those who would accept them!” Charley said. Purah sat there for a moment, his chin on his fist, then, slowly, a smile crept across his face.

  “Yes, YES!” Purah said, and just like that, he was beaming, smiling and showing all his teeth. “I’ve always asked myself if we as Renegades are doing too much or too little? When does intervention become domination? Thera must be allowed to search for its own destiny. We can't carry them there, like Drakearon. But why should they need us at all then?” Purah started.

  “To pick them back up if they fall.” Charley said.

  “You’re right. You always are. We will re-build, no, we will start anew! We will build ourselves a grand city filled with Flarians, Aquarians, Naforians, and Soarians, all with the same, enlightened, core beliefs, filled with Renegades! Yes! YES! Imagine, imagine what we could do? Imagine what we could accomplish together! Imagine a society where everyone does their part and we all need to work together to survive!” Purah said.

  “Every dream needs a name though. What should we call it?” Charley asked.

  “You said it yourself! We will call it, Heaven’s Shelter, a place for all! For anyone with a selfless attitude and a willingness to work toward constant and never ending improvement, and for freedom! This, this will be where the Renegades will call home! Oh, Charley,” Purah said, leaning in and kissing her.

  “I love it when you get that look in your eyes, even if it is filled with the boyish gleam of naivety.” Charley said, grinning.

  “Hey . . .” Purah said, pulling away from her.

  “I didn’t mean that as a bad thing. If anything, this world could use a little bit of naivety. It’s pure, it’s genuine, just like you, come here,” Charley said, as she wrapped her hand around the back of his head and pulled him close for a deep, passionate kiss that set Purah’s body afire. He was about to use such fire, when suddenly, the door burst open and in ran a little girl with blonde, flowing, locks of hair, bouncing to and fro, and her blue eyes sparkling in the morning sun the same way her father’s did.

  “DADDY!” The little girl squealed, dropping her school pack and jumping up. Purah scooped her up effortlessly. “Spin me! Spin me, Daddy! I want spins!”

  “Spin you? What are you doing home from school?” Purah asked, obliging anyway as he picked up his daughter and spun her all about the room as she erupted into a fit of giggles.

  “Snack time, Daddy!” The little girl said.

  “That time already? Well, we’ll get you something in a minute . . . but first,” Charley said, pointing to her own cheek. Purah let her down and the little girl, smiling, scrambled up into her lap and gave her a kiss on the cheek, then sat comfortably as Charley wrapped her up in her arms and kissed her atop her head.

  “Why so smiley, Daddy?” The little girl asked, looking up at him.

  “Oh, it’s nothing, sweetie,” Purah said, staring down at the two lead ladies in his life.

  “Tell me Daddy! No secrets!” The little girl demanded.

  “Well, Daddy is just, very happy right now, because . . . because no matter what happens, Daddy’s suddenly realized that he has the most beautiful wife on Thera, and the most bouncy, out of control little daughter imaginable!” Purah said, slumping down beside them on the bed.

  “SO BOUNCY!” The little girl said, suddenly jumping from Charley’s lap into her Dad’s, her curls bouncing all about as she wrapped him a tight hug with her little arms and nuzzled her face into his chest and then, felt his wife’s hand tangle up in his own, as she leaned against him.

  For the first time since the political upheaval, Purah was taken to a place of perfect peace and comfort and knew that everything would be all right. They sat there, together, wrapped up in each other’s love, taking every second that passed as a blessing, before Purah’s thoughts strayed to his new destiny.

  “Ok, ladies! We got one girl who needs a snack and another that needs to come with me to talk to some friends.” Purah said, rising to his feet, holding his daughter under his right arm.

  “Can I come!?” The little girl asked.

  “Oh, I suppose so. Come on, let’s go see what snacks Uncle Shax and Uncle Lokin have,” Purah said.

  “What about Uncle Falcon? Can we see him too?” The little girl piped up.

  “And Uncle Falcon . . .” Purah said, winking.

  “I like Uncle Falcon best, he’s so silly!” The little girl said.

  “Oh, he most certainly is. But not as silly as you!” Purah said, as he lifted up the little girl’s shirt and blew a raspberry on her tummy, causing the girl to squeal with laughter as they all made the walk to find the founding members of Heaven’s Shelter.

  Chapter Sixteen: The Origin of Heaven’s Shelter

  “So many have come . . .” Purah said, standing beside a, short, spikey haired, beardless Falcon Vadid, as the two of them looked down from one of the guard towers of the newly created, Heaven’s Shelter.

  “Did you expect anything less?” Falcon asked, raising out his arms in a, ‘viola!’ stance. “I mean, look at this place!”

  “For once, my imagination was surpasse
d by reality. Never could I have imagined how beautiful this place would turn out!” Purah said, now looking behind him, gazing across the grounds. He then heard Falcon utter out a proud sigh, as he rubbed a thumb across his chest, scratching away a dried blob of steak sauce.

  “You’re welcome . . .” Falcon said, smiling. Purah laughed and looked at his friend.

  “Oh? And what did you do exactly?” Purah asked. Falcon put on a hurt expression.

  “I made sure you all did your jobs! Someone needed to drink all that donated Habanaro Ale. Took the taste buds of a master, but I got it done!” Falcon started, erupting into a belch.

  “Still, it breaks my heart. I didn’t want this place to be a secret. I wanted it to be open to everyone, but, after our final meeting with Karm . . .” Purah started.

  “Agreed. Someday, when this all simmers down, maybe we can open the barrier for all, but for now, for this to remain a shelter for the downtrodden, and the Flarians, it must remain secret. You heard Karm’s recent monologue to the people, blaming the Flarians for everything and carrying on Drakearon’s lies, lies that were only implemented to bring him more power. It’s a damn shame that such lies are still believed.

  I’m the first to admit that we Flarian’s, well, we don’t do well in groups, and we, more than any other race, are a tad more rambunctious and our powers are more destructive, but worse than that, you heard the cries from the Freeists and non-freeists alike in agreement with Karm. Such prejudice still lives, even after all this time. We had no choice, Purah. If we didn’t leave, eventually, they would have hunted us down, until we were no more. In a way, by us leaving, we have united them against a common enemy, us. Who knows, it may turn out for the best, and over time their hearts may change.” Falcon said.

  “I believe that you are the perfect living example, of how a heart can change,” Purah said. Falcon smiled.

  “Only because of the belief of my friend. If not for you . . .” Falcon said.

  “There were others you know, not just me who supported you,” Purah said.

  “I know, but there will always be those who don’t, who will look upon me as a traitor and a monster,” Falcon said. At that moment, he felt an eye on him and looked down, to see a blue clad Lamik Strife, staring up at him with a furrowed, unapproving, stink eye, but rather than match it, Falcon lit up in an overly jovial, bright face, smiled and waved at Lamik as if he were a long lost friend. Lamik, disgusted and taken aback, turned his gaze to the ground, growled something to himself and walked away with his hands in his pockets.

  “Don’t worry, he always looks like that. Apparently, the eyepatch is supposed to help with his accuracy, so he says . . .” Purah said.

  “The one eyed monster . . . heh, get it?” Falcon asked, making Lamik’s face and stroking an invisible appendage, causing Purah to burst out into raucous laughter.

  “Hey now! Don’t be coming down to my buffoonish level laughing at dirty jokes. You’re up there in the running for Renegade Chieftain ya know! What would the people of Heaven’s Shelter say knowing their proud leader finds dick jokes hilarious?” Falcon asked. Purah stifled back a laugh.

  “I’m a firm believer that the world needs more dirty jokes. They unhinge and offend the uptight, while bringing joy and laughter to the open minded. Besides, what was it Vadid always told us?” Purah asked.

  “Only an open minded person can enjoy both the best, and worst humanity has to offer, and find a way, despite it all, to giggle.” Falcon said, forcing a smile, thinking of his gone without a trace Class Master. He then felt his friend’s hand squeeze his shoulder.

  “Falcon, whatever you do, don’t go changing. We need laughter in this world, more than anything right now,” Purah said.

  “Yeah? What makes you say that?” Falcon asked.

  “Come over here,” Purah said.

  Together, they walked down the back stairs of the guard tower, and intermingled with The Renegades who were gathered, gazing up at the newly formed, “Welcome to Heaven’s Shelter,” sign, only there was one problem, it wasn’t lit. Purah took a deep breath and made his way out of the crowd, and stood beneath the sign, and raised his hands for silence.

  “My name is Renegade Purah, and before you lies an experiment, of what could happen when those from different cultures, races and homes, can come together under one core dream and belief. Welcome, everyone, to our new home, welcome, to Heaven’s Shelter! Foxblade Dredka, if you would do the honors of lighting the colors of the Soarians?” Purah asked.

  “No,” Foxblade growled, as he walked out of the crowd, past Purah, and into Heaven’s Shelter.

  “Should have expected that, um, Dave?” Purah asked. It was then, a much slimmer Dave made his way through the crowd, hand in hand with his beautiful wife, Eleanor, whose tummy swelled with child.

  “Ready, honey?” Dave asked, as they looked up at the sign. Eleanor gave him a peck on the cheek.

  “Together,” Eleanor said. Hand in hand, they powered up their essence, hovered their hands over the letters and the ones with special Soarian stones mixed into the cedar wood, lit up in a brilliant, yellow fire.

  “Shax Holiner, would you and Shara would please do the honors of lighting up the Naforian’s?” Purah exclaimed. Together, hand in hand, Shax and his wife did the honors, and in a flash, the Naforia letters were lit in a brilliant hue of green fire.

  “Renegade Perry, if you would be so kind as to light up the letters for the Aquarians,” Purah asked. Perry came forward, alone, and ignited the letters.

  “And last, but not least, I would invite my very good friend, Falcon Vadid, student of Vadid the Valiant himself, to light up the final letters for the Flarian’s,” Purah said.

  “Me?” Falcon asked, feeling every eye on him.

  “You,” Purah said, smiling.

  “I . . .” Falcon started.

  “To let him light this fire, will but curse this place to destruction! Let another, one more blameless, do it!” The voice of Lamik Strife called from afar. Several other Renegades raised their voices in agreement. Falcon lowered his head, but Purah spoke in.

  “Then let who is blameless step forward.” Purah said.

  “I didn’t mean it like that,” Lamik replied.

  “Then how did you mean it?” Purah asked.

  Lamik opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came, and instead, he settled for folding his arms and letting loose a stink eye in Purah’s direction.

  “As I thought. Now, Falcon Vadid, light that fire!” Purah said as if he were the host of a game show.

  Falcon thought a moment and the words of Lamik bounced through his head. He knew he was cursed. Should he pass that curse on? Then, Falcon looked into the face of his wife, who smiled and nodded. That was the only assurance he needed, and with that, he raised up a ringed hand and lit up the rest of the letters in a brilliant orange-red, completing the sign.

  “Welcome, everyone, to Heaven’s Shelter!” Purah exclaimed, raising his hands high, as mostly everyone, applauded and cheered.

  “It’s the Great Veil war all over again, only this time, the veil is within our very home and our enemies, the Strifes, are dressed like us, know who stands with Narroway, and who stands with Lamik, where we, we’re in the dark! And because of that, they will always get the jump on us, and, and . . .” Purah stammered, fighting back tears. “ . . . Neffa, she was slain by a cheap trick and broken trust. The best I can do is send her heart back to the fire from whence it came.”

  Purah looked down in his arms, where he held his great, grey Tundra Wolf, and with great emotional effort, he laid Neffa gently atop a pile of other murdered boons, and lit the fire himself. Falcon placed a hand on his right shoulder and Moordin placed a hand on his left.

  “I’ll miss you girl, so, so much,” Purah said, swallowing hard and wiping his tears away with a sleeve. They stood there with a group of other Renegade victims, in silence, watching and saying goodbye to their animal friends who had given, and showed them so much.
/>   “What’s our move?” Falcon asked to the both of them once the flames began to settle.

  “We send our boons away, somewhere safe, to start with. The enemy is going for them first, to cripple our power, make us afraid, and worst of all, it’s an enemy who could be among this group, right now, listening, and to those that are, I say, let them hear this next part. We may not know of all who have turned from Narroway, we may not even know of hand count, but we do know of one for certain, and that one is all we will need.” Moordin said.

  “Lamik,” Falcon said, venom to his voice.

  “Exactly. We find him, we end this,” Moordin said.

  “But where would he go? Where would he be? We know he’s calling the shots, but,” Falcon started. He then turned to Purah. “I know you’re grieving right now, but think, Purah. Out of all of us, you’re the only one on the council. You know him better than any of us, and you were his biggest obstacle. You were the one who revealed him, you were the one who spoke out against him. Think, Purah, put yourself in his shoes. Where would he be?” Falcon started.

  Purah thought for a moment, his eyes downcast, when suddenly, they grew large, and bloodshot, and his heart seized in his chest. Without warning, Purah broke through both Falcon and Moordin, and sprinted as fast as he could, but it seemed every step he took was in slow motion. By the time Purah reached his home, his sanctuary within a sanctuary; it felt as if a lifetime had passed. He bounded up his steps to find his door was busted in. Everything from here on moved like a dream, as if he were underwater. Everything felt muffled, unreal, as he stepped over his kicked in door and walked inside to see his normally immaculate home, in total disarray, and in the center of the carnage sat a man in his swiveling desk chair, the same chair he had written his very first story in. The man had his back to him, but upon hearing him enter, he spun around, slowly, in a spine-chilling creak, and faced him, staring him down with his one visible eye.